Let the writing commence: 1st flash fiction posting.

So, I have been considering how to motivate myself each day, or at least each time I find I have time to write. After some deliberation it occured to me that I could post a piece of flash fiction here and hopefully someone will pick up on it and hang around long enough (or lost enough) to read it. It may not be good. It might be good. The jury will be out until you let me know.

As inspiration I will obviously use my time in the air and at the destinations I go to, (Uganda tomorrow), and when I’m not flying, I will use whatever occurs to me.

Yesterday, i took my bike out and found the inspiration for this story. I’ve limited myself to 250 words max, and about half an hour.


Jane had parked her car on the other side of the lane, opposite the cottage’s front room.

Barbara fussed nervously with the net curtain, trying to work out if her nearest neighbours would be able to see it from their garden.

“Why did you have to bring that car Jane? You know it makes me nervous.”

Jane looked up from the sofa.

“My mini’s in the garage. Anyway, I don’t see what the problem is”

Her mother threw her an exasperated look.

“I don’t want the neighbours thinking anything’s going on here, that’s all.”

“Not worried are you, mother? Got something to tell me, have you?”

“Sarcasm, Jane, won’t get you what you came for.”

Jane pouted, faking hurt feelings.

“How much do you want this time?”

Jane removed her police notebook from her jacket and ripped out the top page.

“I took a proper order for you this time Mum,” she said, proudly. “I forgot my Sarge’s lot last month; never get promoted if I keep that up.”

“First rule of retail Jane,” said Barbara, finger wagging, “keep your customers happy and they’ll be back for more.”

Jane rolled her eyes.

“I know, I know. Can we get a move on Mum? I’m supposed to be in court in an hour”

Barbara opened the back door and headed towards the greenhouse.

“How was the last batch anyway?”

Jane smiled.

“Phil in forensics said it was the best he’d ever smoked.”

“I always liked that lad,” beamed Barbara.

Copyright: The flyingscribbler. 2010

The inspiration for this was a police car parked on a lane outside my village. It got me thinking about why it would be there. Hopefully not to deliver disastrous news to relatives, although it’s always possible. Anyway, hope you enjoyed it.

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